Day 62. Some month, day 2. 9:41
Most mages start with fire. And so I built fire. It wouldn’t bring back those lost, but it would burn. I looked at it. I wanted it to burn forever.
Still kneeling in the snow, I TWISTED the funeral pyre. I knew veilfire was the memory of fire, and now each moment the fire burned would add to that memory. I tilted my head, still LOOKING.
Reaching into the glowy mist of the fire, I spun the glow into into a thin strand. I thought of my people, the ones I lost, and tied those memories to this place. Another strand, and another.
One for each. I thought of my people, the ones I lost, and tied those memories to this place.
If this fire ever went out, then a touch would reactivate its memory, and my lost people won’t be forgotten. If I’d done it right.
I opened my eyes, and purple glints began to mix with the red flames. The sound had changed, as well. It almost sounded like someone crying mixed with the crackle of the wood.
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